


please take away my ambiguity

by softtofustew



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Fluff, Genie!Hyunjin, HYUNSUNG, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Mentions of Sex, Side Jilix, but like one sentence, but there isnt any lol, stray kids - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-26
Updated: 2018-10-26
Packaged: 2019-08-07 21:33:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16416362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/softtofustew/pseuds/softtofustew
Summary: jisung is granted three wishes by the genie hyunjin trapped inside his mum’s prized flower vase, set free when jisung drops and cracks said vase. proceed.





	please take away my ambiguity

**Author's Note:**

> (1) i am: sad about the lack of hyunsung fics in the stray kids tag so i wrote one myself ; lord knows how i came up with this idea 
> 
> (2) there’s *some* implied mature content but it’s literally just one sentence in this entire fic. so. please don’t come at me /runs away/
> 
> (3) this guy is different from my usual writing style, in the sense that it’s more fast-paced than slow burn. hope you enjoy!

moving out of the rural land to the towering skylines of the sparkling city  _ should _ make jisung a little afraid, nervous even, but he’s humming along to the tune blasting from his earphones as he presses the up button of the elevator. he juggles the last moving box in his hands, the one that has the letters spelling out ‘FRAGILE’ splayed across the front. finally able to breathe in the air that inhibits him, free from nagging parents and high school bullies, jisung exhales a huge sigh of relief.

having worked so hard, he finally got the scholarship he had been aiming for in a college close by in the city. after relentlessly begging his parents to let him move out and live on, he could finally taste the freedom of success, here now living alone in his three-room apartment.

there’s a rather loud  _ ding _ as the the elevator doors open. too immersed in the song, jisung almost bowls over a young boy with a smattering of freckles across his cheeks, cap placed backwards atop his jet black hair. “sorry!” he blurts out, blushing. the boy doesn’t bat an eyelash, only stepping aside and continuing to stride out into the lobby floor of the apartment.

jisung stumbles into the elevator, before pressing the button for floor 15. as the doors close, his mind zeroes in on the boy earlier - can’t be older than him. and pretty, that’s another thing. the heat intensifies in his cheeks as he thinks and thinks and  _ thinks _ , to the point where his grip on the box loosens a little when he adjusts the collar of his shirt. 

shit.  _ not the time to think about pretty neighbours _ , he thinks. another second passes.  _ oh, what the hell. _

when the doors reopen, jisung pads down the hallway to his door. with one hand, he balances the box precariously, the other hand reaching around his back pocket in search of his keys. the metal keys clink together when he retrieves them and slots the front door key into the doorknob.

“tell me whyyyy,” jisung belts out as the door is shoved open, giving way to more unopened, unpacked boxes he’d been carrying up for the past two hours. “ _ wae mami mami jakku heundeu- _ oh, fuck!” he screeches mid-song as the box slides off and out of his grip. 

horror is etched all over his face as a loud crash resonates throughout the room. he rips the earphones out of his ears, tossing them onto the floor as he crouches down. “no, no, no, no,  _ no _ . i’m  _ so _ in deep shit,” he rambles - he has the tendency to babble away in times of sheer panic, especially when his mum’s prized vase is probably now in broken pieces in the box. god knows why his mum placed it in the trunk in the first place. (oh, wait. “my vase collection is getting too much for the shelves, why don’t you bring one to keep at your new place? don’t break it, by the way.”  _ god _ , he’s in deep shit.)

“damn it,” he mutters irately under his breath. he actually kind of  _ liked _ the vase, too. it was bought from a trinket store his mum went to, back when they were in malaysia. swirls of white and blue etched into the porcelain, with a long neck and curved bottom, made stable with a ring. “damn it, han jisung. you’ve been here less than two hours, and here you are. what the hell.”

carefully, he opens the top flap of the box to investigate the damage, and the damage has well been done: cracks and splinters of white and blue scatter the box. jisung groans aloud. he up ends the box, before promptly shaking the broken contents out. “goddamn it,” he curses quietly. 

as he empties the cardboard box, a hum fills the air. frowning, jisung scans his surroundings. the living room slash kitchen is empty, excluding the bland furniture and dozens of boxes dotting the expanse of the space before him. the humming escalates, now a loud thrumming in his heart. “what the-”

a flash of white and blue pervades his vision for a second or two. jisung can’t tell if he’s screaming or not, but the next time he blinks, a human lays sprawled across the floor in nothing but a dark blue robe. 

jisung does the next most plausible thing: he screams like a banshee. 

“oh fuck!” he screeches. he scrambles to his feet, hands rubbing at his eyes to check if his vision is clear. it is. “holy shit, who are you and where the hell did you come from?” 

his eyes bug out at the sight of the boy. his dark hair is messy, floppy and falling past his eyes, as if it hasn't been trimmed in a long while. what intriguing is the pair of silver earrings adorning either side of the boy's ears - they're in the shape of silver lamps, the kind from the movie aladdin jisung had watched as a kid.

when their eyes meet, jisung quiets down. he still quivers in trepidation when he parts his lips, “who are you?”

for a moment, there is nothing but silence. gradually, the boy gets up to his feet, stretches his back with a groan. “god, my whole body aches,” he winces - his voice is low, yet soft and gentle and whiny as he groans at the pain in his muscles.

jisung watches, not knowing how to respond. 

he can only stare as the boy stretches his arms out. “where the hell is this place?” the boy mumbles, glancing around at the house. when his eyes land on jisung, he frowns, running a hand through his floppy hair. jisung is stunned speechless - the boy has the darkest of pupils, yet they glimmer, as if the lights overhead were reflected off of his irises in a sort of hypnotic way.  _ who the hell are you? _

“um. my house?” jisung replies hesitantly. he, too, runs a hand through his own mess of hair. he’s beyond confused.

“huh,” the nameless boy shrugs. “looks cozy. at least it’s cozier than that vase.” with that, the both of them peer down at the shards of the once prized flower vase, sprinkling the marble tiled floor.

jisung’s eyebrows furrow. “wait… what the heck? are you saying-”

“-i’ve been stuck in that goddamned vase for ten years? yeah. that’s what i’m saying,” the nameless boy chortles. it’s a tinkling laugh, the kind that’s contagious, and jisung catches himself before he can break into a smile of his own.

“but you’re a  _ dude _ ?” jisung points out. “you can’t just magically appear out of a vase, man,” he adds, baffled. he watches as the boy chuckles, seemingly amused by jisung’s confusion. “what? is it not a valid question?”

the boy cracks a grin. “i’m not just any  _ dude _ , jisungie,” he smiles. 

“wait, i didn’t even tell you my-”

“-i’ve been stuck in this vase for forever, sungie, of course i know your name.” he places his hands on his hips. “i’m technically a genie dude. and because you dropped the vase and helped me escape from that stuffy piece of shit - no offence, but your mum just lays that thing on her shelf and it’s  _ literally _ just filled with dust - i can grant you three wishes.”

everything enters jisung’s left ear and exits through his right. “so… you’re the genie from aladdin?”

the genie shrugs. “something like that. but my name’s hyunjin.”

jisung’s lips turn downwards. “hyunjin?”

“yeah,” the other replies. “we genies get stuck in trinkets and whoever gets us out is granted three wishes. choose wisely. oh, and,” he fiddles with the bangles on his wrists, the ones jisung hadn’t noticed beforehand, “as long as you say ‘i wish’, i take it that you’re using up your wishes. capiche?”

when hyunjin finishes, jisung scratches the back of his head. “is there, i don’t know, a time limit to this thing? i can’t think of anything to wish for at the moment,” he says. frankly, everything’s too much of a rush to him, from almost crashing into the pretty boy at the elevator to shattering  his mum’s favourite vase, and now a genie?  _ why a  _ vase _ , though, out of all things? why not a lamp? _

hyunjin taps a forefinger at his chin. “well… no. but the longer you take to wish your wishes, the longer the time i live with you.” he shows off a toothy grin before nudging jisung’s side playfully. to his surprise, jisung feels hot skin against his, not a genie fading into and out of him like a ghost. “i wouldn’t mind living here, though, seems to be pretty good of a house you’ve got here.”

before jisung can open his mouth to get a word in, hyunjin examines the boy’s piercings. “ooh, nice earrings,” he comments lightly, his fingers beginning to play with the boy’s dangling earring. “i’m stuck with these lamp ones, but i’m thinking of getting an orbital piercing, though. if only i could grant myself a wish, too. oh, and also...”

with the genie rambling away, jisung can only remain quiet as the headache begins throbbing away in his head.  _ new home, new life. and i guess a new roommate, too. _

 

**_______________**

 

“god, this is the  _ shit _ ,” hyunjin groans aloud as he digs into the plate of tteokbokki jisung’s prepared for lunch. the table, though small and cramped, fits the genie and himself as the two eat away the rice cakes. when another is popped into hyunjin’s mouth, the boy groans again. “i’ve missed this shit so much.”

at this, jisung rolls his eyes. he asked for college, for a home. for  _ himself _ . not to take care and look after and nurture and feed this freaking genie he hadn’t expected to magically pop out of his mum’s vase. it sounds worse than a stereotypical fantasy tale. “am i supposed to cook for you now?” jisung complains loudly.

“if you want those three wishes, yes,” hyunjin confirms, before snarfing down another spicy rice cake. “dude, you’ve got to cook these at least once - no, twice - a week, and i’ll grant your wishes to the fullest i can. doable?”

hyunjin sticks an arm out for jisung to shake in agreement, but the other simply crosses his arms. “i don’t even know what to wish for. and why me? why my mum’s vase?” the questions clogged up in his throat have tumbled from his lips, and the boy is practically on his knees begging for the answers to his curiosity.

lifting his shoulder into a shrug, hyunjin replies lightly, “dunno. we don’t know how we end up there. they usually say it’s fate or whatever, but genies don’t question this. we do the job, get it done. grant three wishes. easy peasy. people use them up pretty fast, actually.” with that, he shoots jisung a look, the kind that sends a weird shiver down his spine. jisung decides to brush it off.

“are you insinuating that you want me to use up my three wishes asap’?” jisung retorts.

“honestly? no.” hyunjin faces jisung. the words ever so gradually sink down, and realisation dawns upon jisung, the underlying meaning causing heat to blossom in his cheeks. “you’re hella cute. and you make killer tteokbokki. i’d love to stay.”

jisung rolls his eyes. “freeloader.”

“you said something?” the genie bats his eyelashes innocently. to be frank, jisung’s not sure if it’s supposed to be flirtatious or not. he still blushes harder, anyhow.

“nothing,” jisung murmurs as he shoves another mouthful of rice cakes into his mouth to shut himself up. across the table, hyunjin grins widely, the spicy sauce on the corners of his lips. 

“has anyone ever told you that you look like a squirrel when you eat?” hyunjin teases playfully.

jisung sighs. “every damned time-”

“-you  _ do _ look like one-”

“-excuse me?-”

“-a hella cute one at that,” hyunjin finishes off. the genie polishes the last of his rice cakes before standing, leaving jisung unable to think of a somewhat intellectual comeback. “by the way, i’ll just throw the plate in. i’m not exactly gonna wash them though, unless you want that as your first wish.” with that said, the genie marches over to the sink with plate, dumps it in and shuffles off into jisung’s (and temporarily, hyunjin’s room), leaving jisung absolutely dumbfounded and, frankly, at a loss of words.

 

**_______________**

 

on the first day of college, jisung oversleeps, and is now frantically searching his closet for matching socks fifteen minutes before his first lecture begins. he’s groaning, sweat collecting above his brows as he runs through the huge pile of unarranged and unpaired socks in his sock drawer. 

“god, where the hell-” he clicks his tongue in frustration as he throws a polka dotted sock over his shoulder. it doesn’t help matters that most of his socks are of the same colour, the only distinctive difference being the symbols at the ankles. 

at the bed, hyunjin’s playing around with jisung’s phone, sighing. “oh, well, looks like someone’s going to be late for college,” his new roommate dramatically drones on, as if to mock jisung and aggravate him further. it takes all of jisung not to throw himself at the genie and tear his hair off.

“for fuck’s sake, i wish time would stop or something!” jisung whines, flinging a sock across the room.

a hum resonates throughout the room.

“what-” realisation dawns upon him, crashing over him like a cold wave of salty seawater. “-no, no, no! I didn’t mean it like that!” he scrambles to his feet, swivelling around to glare at hyunjin. the genie is still on the duvet idly, fiddling with jisung’s phone. “reverse it! reverse it or something! hey!”

furious, jisung stomps over to where hyunjin is sat and tears the phone from the genie’s hands. “i didn’t wish for that literally! i just-”

“-nuh uh uh,” hyunjin admonishes. he sits up straight, a small smirk upon his full lips. “one wish down, two to go. you said it out loud clearly, jisungie, i can’t reverse it unless you use up another wish.” with that, he winks at jisung. the college kid crumbles into a blushing mess.

“then how is time going to continue again?” jisung pouts, crossing his arms. he’s dressed in a white band tee, paired with his favourite lever back earrings and black ripped jeans. hair uncombed, bleary-eyed. hyunjin feels tempted to adjust the front of jisung’s tee where it’s accidentally tucked in. “or am i supposed to wish for time to unstop?

“i don’t know,” hyunjin sighs. he swings one leg over, before getting up to his feet. he’s got a good two inches over jisung - jisung hates the genie for that. smiling smugly at jisung, he too crosses his arms. “how about you get your socks and get your ass to college, and then see what happens?”

all jisung can do is exhale noisily, huffing as he turns his back to the genie and strides over to the pile of socks. he finally finds a pair of matching white socks, laces up his worn-out converses, swings his backpack over his shoulder and bids hyunjin goodbye, leaving the genie sniggering behind his fist.

meanwhile, jisung races down the walkway. people are frozen in time, him a lone figure ripping through the surge of passers-by on the street. the only perks of his house, really, is that it’s a mere five minutes from the college, and in a blur of time, he’s already on campus grounds.

“woah,” he breathes quietly. around him, college students mingle at the front courtyard of the main building. maple trees overhead provide shade from the sun gleaming down. students flanked out in outfits of all kinds mill about jisung, frozen in time, too.

“so when will time start running again?” jisung wonders aloud as he paces along the cobblestone walkway, leading up to the main entrance. as if someone had heard him, the thrumming stops. 

life is sucked back into every living soul. the chattering of students around him starts, startling him out of his wits. the chirping of birds overhead. the roaring of cars down the streets. the honks and beeps that follow. 

dazed, jisung glimpses around at his surroundings, in search of that cheeky genie. _where the hell are you-_

“shit!” jisung cries as he bumps into a figure. surprised, he stumbles back to have a good look at the boy. flanked before him is the same pretty boy from about a week back, same freckles, same eyes. a beanie is stuffed over his hair, and his cross earring swings madly as the boy clutches his head. 

the other winces in pain. “ow, god-”

“-i am so, so sorry,” jisung babbles, flustered. red fills his cheeks. “i did not see you there, and i really am sorry that i-”

“-calm down, man,” the boy cuts him off. it's that moment that jisung registers how low the other's voice is, and smooth and velvety and slick like honey - and jisung dies a little bit more inside. of  _ course _ he had to humiliate himself in front of the prettiest living boy ever. “it's okay, my skull's still good, see?”

with that said, the pretty boy playfully knocks his cranium lightly with his fist. he throws jisung a grin. jisung falls. hard. 

“my name's felix.” the pretty boy begins strolling down the walkway. right. college. “what's yours?”

_ perhaps genies aren't so bad after all _ , jisung thinks, as he engages in the newfound friendship with the pretty boy from home.

 

**_______________**

 

“well,  _ someone’s _ in love,” hyunjin sings as jisung flops himself down on the bed, letting out an overdramatic sigh. the genie himself is hovering over jisung, kicking the air as he flicks through a fashion magazine. “care to share how your accidental wish blossomed a new romantic saga?”

“hyunjinnie, he’s. so. pretty,” jisung whines into his pillow. above him, the shadow of hyunjin looms over the boy on the bed. grinning, the genie lowers himself down onto the soft duvet beside jisung. “have i mentioned his freckles? ado-fucking-rable. and his voice. you  _ need _ to give me strength, because that voice of his is god-sent, or satan-sent; i can’t even choose-”

the screen of the phone on the mattress lights up. curious, hyunjin peeks at it. “looks like lover boy’s got a message,” he announces. “lixie… one day in and you’ve already got a nickname for him.”

flustered, jisung stretches his arm out to grab at his phone, but he tackles the air. “yah, hyunjin, give it to me!” his pleas fall on deaf ears as hyunjin tauntingly throws the cell phone into the air. the device begins to leave trails behind as it floats from one end of the room to the other. “hyunjin! give me the phone!”

“don’t think so,” hyunjin smirks, lips pulled upwards in one corner as the phone does loop-de-loops in mid-air. getting more pissed now, jisung flings himself on top of the genie in frustration. there’s a shriek and a thump of the phone landing onto the carpeted floor as hyunjin loses his concentration.

in a split moment, jisung’s rolled over hyunjin, legs splayed on either side of the genie’s hips, hands reached out to pin the other’s arms together on top of hyunjin’s head against the mattress. “you asshole-”

“-hey, hey, don’t talk to me like that; i  _ literally _ got you a hot date-”

“-he’s  _ not _ a date,” jisung shoots back, huffing noisily as he tightens his grip on hyunjin’s linked hands above his head. it’s in that moment when both of them realise the tension of the situation, the way jisung’s face is only a mere few inches away from hyunjin’s, the way the both of them are breathing heavily from the sudden tackle. the boy is almost alarmed when he feels something digging into fabric of the jeans clad on his right thigh.  _ holy  _ motherfucking _ shit- _

“can you get off, please?” jisung’s assumption is confirmed when hyunjin flashes him a forced smile. “you’re kind of heavy.” jisung knows the bullshit as soon as he hears it (he leaned on hyunjin three days ago while they were slumping on the couch and binge-watching movies. the genie hadn’t complained once.) but promptly puts some distance between him and hyunjin.

an awkward silence settles into the air. trying to cut the tension, jisung clears his throat. “um, well, i’ll get my-”

“-sorry. i shouldn’t have done that-”

“-no, it was nothing, i-”

“-jisung,” hyunjin mumbles - the tips of his ears are so red they could be tomatoes. “i’ll… go to the bathroom. um. good luck with him.” with that, he scrambles to his feet and shuffles to the bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.

whatever that was, the unsettling feeling grows in jisung’s gut.  _ god, genies. _

 

**_______________**

 

two weeks pass before jisung accidentally drops his notebook onto the floor, letting it clatter on the tiled ground of the hallway as he and felix are on their way for lunch. and not just any notebook - it’s  _ literally _ the notebook jisung hasn’t shown a single living soul on earth. startled, jisung reaches down to retrieve it - felix beats him to it.

“looks pretty old, man,” felix comments lightly. jisung might never get used to the younger’s gravelly voice. with every passing day, jisung finds something new to gush over the pretty boy, perhaps the shape of his eyes or the curve of his adam’s apple or the sneakers he wears, adorned with his doodles from two years ago. (“i swear i don’t draw that bad,” he’d defended himself with a laugh.)

jisung feels his heart thumping madly against his chest.  _ don’t look at it don’t look at it don’t look at it- _

“lyric book?” felix’s lips turn ever so slightly downwards as he scans the front page, the letters almost illegible across the cover. “wait… do you, like, write your own songs or something? god, dude, that’s fucking cool.” 

despite the compliment, jisung almost snatches the book from felix’s fingers. “yeah, i guess. not really songs, just bars…”

“you  _ rap _ ?” felix raises an eyebrow. “shit, that’s even cooler.”

by now, even as they’re strolling down the hallway, jisung is a hot, blushing mess. minus the hot. his tee is wrinkled (hyunjin accidentally broke the iron), his hair uncombed (hyunjin also accidentally broke the comb while trying to tame his own mane of hair), his jeans stiff (he swears he got the laundry right this time, though…) it’s a miracle felix is still walking with him. “really?”

“yeah.” for some reason or another, felix stop outside the janitor’s closet. he faces jisung. his eyes are wild, dancing. they don’t hold the glitter that hyunjin’s do, but they’re dark pools jisung might just be willing to swim in. “you wanna know something cooler?”

the older hangs on the edge of expectancy. leap of faith, he thinks, as he swallows his nerves and responds with what he hopes is a nonchalant “sure.”

in a blink of an eye, felix’s lips curl into a small smirk as he throws the janitor’s closet open. he takes up jisung’s sleeve, yanking him inside, and shutting the door loudly with the heel of his shoe. “i kind of really want you. but. like,” he inhales sharply before adding, “only if you want to.”

jisung wonders what kind of alternate universe he’s in: from genies in broken vases to pretty boys asking for a hook-up in a room full of disinfectant. “yes. sure. definitely.”

all he sees is the grin on felix’s lips widening before he closes the space between them. it’s a gentle caress of lips for only a moment before felix pushes and  _ pushes _ jisung up against the empty, cabinet-less wall of the closet, hands pinning the older against the wall. the kiss is harder now, fiercer, more ferocious than soft. an involuntary groan leaves jisung’s lips as felix begins pressing open-mouthed kisses all along jisung’s collarbones, exposed by the (said wrinkled) band tee. 

with his lips brushing the hot skin there, jisung can feel felix’s warm breaths as he whispers. “show me what you can do with that tongue of yours, rapper.”

fuck.  _ double fuck _ , is all jisung can think of as he kisses felix’s ear and gets down on his knees. “as you wish, lixie."

 

**_______________**

 

the second jisung strides into the apartment, hyunjin scrunches his nose. he’s sat at the kitchen counter, magazine in his hand. “you reek of sex, sungie.”

frowning, jisung glimpses down at his (utterly wrinkled) clothes, scanning for any sign that had given away his time with felix. “how do you know-”

“-one, you smell like sex. two, you’ve got something crusty at the corner of your lips, and i do  _ not _ wanna know what that is,” hyunjin reasons. stunned, jisung wipes furiously at his lips, leaving the genie screwing his face up in disgust. “i wished you well with pretty boy, but i wasn’t expecting y’all to go so far already.”

throwing his backpack onto the floor, jisung shrugs, though his grin gives it all away. “look, i wasn't expecting that too - he went in for it. i would've been an idiot if i said no.”

“the two of you don't even know each other that well! have you even gone on an actual date with the guy before?” hyunjin protests, crossing his arms across his chest. today, his hair a bush, eyes almost glowering under the bright lights. 

jisung doesn't understand why the genie's so pent up for. “your dating concepts are kind of outdated, no?” jisung points out. “calm down. he asked me out today. we're going out saturday night.”

instead of a warm celebratory cheer, all he gets is a click of a tongue from hyunjin. “so the two of you hook up before going on a date in a restaurant? totally understandable,” hyunjin sneers. 

jisung curls his hands into fists. “look, hyunjin ah, i don't get why you're so upset. it's not like i murdered him or something. calm down,” he reasons.

the genie runs a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. the tips of his ears are flushed pink. jisung's heart is racing, afraid of what the other will say next, afraid of what is to unfold. 

“i'm not upset. i'm just concerned, that's all,” hyunjin finally answers.

the other boy furrows his eyebrows. “i can't catch your drift.”

“you meet this guy who you don't even know all that much about, and it's not like you've talked about his personality much. yes, he's  _ pretty _ and everything, but you've never said he's nice or kind or caring or whatever crap you should say when you truly like someone.”

when hyunjin ends his short speech, there's a pause to the progression of the conversation. the words are anchors, sinking deep, deep, deeper. jisung releases another sigh, twirling the hem of his tee with his finger. 

“for someone whose duty is simply to grant my wishes, you've been awfully observant,” jisung utters softly under his breath, but hyunjin catches it.

“only for the cute ones,” he teases - it's like the first week they met again, the jokes and playful taunting. but this time, his tone holds sombreness, a serious take on his words. as if to further push the nostalgia building up in jisung, hyunjin leans close to let his head rest on jisung's shoulder. jisung steadies himself against the counter, one arm involuntarily snaking around to wrap around hyunjin's hip. 

_ what is this, _ he wonders, but there's no answer. his heart almost hurts as it pounds with all its might, his ribcage threatening to splinter apart under the pressure of his beating heart as hyunjin snuggles into the crook of jisung's neck. quietly, the two stay like that, side-by-side, hair tickling nose as time goes by. 

 

**_______________**

 

when saturday rolls around, jisung shuts down his laptop - his assignment can wait - and swivels around in his roller chair to face hyunjin, who’s busy sifting through jisung’s magazines. “hyunjin ah.”

the genie peers upwards. a strand of hair falls past hyunjin’s eyebrows, and the other is almost tempted to stand up and tuck it back; it’s these sudden invasive thoughts recently that makes jisung curious, perhaps scared. he pushes the invasive out of his mind to clear his throat and add, “i think i’m ready for my second wish.”

it might just be jisung, but he swears he sees hyunjin’s shoulders tense up. for the past few days, there’s been an awkward line of tension binding the two together under the roof. all jisiung tries to do is make conversation with the other, but nothing surfaces. “oh…” hyunjin casts his gaze downwards onto the fuzzy carpet lining the floor.

“is that okay with you?” jisung asks. why is he asking, anyways? he’s privileged with these wishes he’s supposed to be granted.  _ then why this hesitation? _

“well, duh. it’s my job,” hyunjin answers, voice clipped as he gets to his feet and strides over to the edge of the bed, closer to the other boy, before plopping down. “what’s up?”

“i really want things to go well with felix,” jisung states matter-of-factly. the moment the words leave his lips, jisung regrets them - the glitter in hyunjin’s eyes flicker like a star in the skies of city skylines. 

chewing on his lower lip, the genie fidgets with his fingers. “yeah. sure. say the word, jisungie.”

_ jisungie.  _

the uneasiness pools in jisung’s gut. “how about you help me get dressed first?” he hastily adds. the need to stall is out of the topic, but there it is. “i mean, you’re always looking at those fashion magazines or whatever. i kinda wanna look good.”

hyunjin quirks an eyebrow. “you already look good.” there isn’t a hint of playfulness in his tone as he stares at the other square in the eye. heat washes over jisung in waves, red splotches spreading like wildfire across his cheeks.

“you know what i mean. my outfit.”

wordlessly, hyunjin scans jisung, eyes raking him head to toe slowly, then even slower from toe to head. it scares jisung, the way the racehorse of his heart pounds as hyunjin stands and takes a step closer to where he’s sat on the chair. “stand up.”

jisung does as the genie wishes. “give me a moment,” hyunjin utters, before striding over to the mahogany wood wardrobe, jerking the drawers open. a flutter of clothes is heard as the genie tosses some tees out, several pairs of jeans (all black except one denim, some ripped), a couple of sweaters. the boy takes his time to watch hyunjin, the genie’s full lips curling downwards into a small frown, his eyes ablaze as he skims through the articles of clothing. 

after what feels like an eternity (which was only two minutes), hyunjin lifts something up for jisung to look at. “this one looks good.”

jisung blushes. madly. it’s a prank gift from a friend, changbin, from home - it’s a black-and-white checkered button-down shirt, the top two buttons missing, slightly translucent. “i don’t know… it’s not really my style,” he winces hesitantly.

a smirk forms on hyunjin’s lips. “if you want to hook up again tonight, it’s perfect, honestly.”

in a split second, the other’s eyes light up. “really?”

“i’d totally love getting dicked down by you if i were your date,” hyunjin laughs. jisung knows the genie’s only fooling around, but the idea of hyunjin and himself kissing and doing other things… god, he really needs to get these invasives out of his dirty head. 

“alright then,” jisung sighs, snatching the shirt and a pair of skinny black jeans ripped at the knees. “anything else?”

“this?” as he speaks, hyunjin shows off a pair of dangle earrings from jisung’s box that he keeps in his drawer. they’re golden, with a tear drop dangling at the end. it’s sophisticated, and super classy. jisung almost swoons at the sight of it. 

“what would i do without you, hyunjinnie,” jisung teases as he takes up the earrings and strutting to the bathroom with all the clothes in his arms. shutting the bathroom close, he strips down to his boxers, before carefully pulling on the clothes.

when he glances at himself in the mirror, jisung bites down on his lower lip. the shirt exposes his neckline, collarbones and all; you can see the faint outline of his arms underneath the shirt. he rolls the sleeves up to his elbows. alright.  _ alright _ . the jeans are tighter than he thought they’d be - he  _ swears _ he hasn’t binge-eaten at all. the earrings reflect the bathroom light off of them, a sort of angelic air about them.

god. damn.

jisung feels his cheeks warm up when he throws the bathroom door open, adjacent to his bedroom. surprised, hyunjin turns his head to take a look at jisung. how his eyes asses jisung, from the collar of the shirt to the rips in the jeans to his unstyled hair. this must be eye rape or something, jisung thinks.

“lookin’ good,” hyunjin mutters, followed by something incoherent. 

“what?” 

the genie shakes his head. “n-nothing,” he stutters. he folds his arms across his chest. “so. make your wish.”

time passes. jisung clears his throat, scratches the rash forming at the nape of his neck. “uh. well. i don’t know what to say, actually-”

“-do you want to wish for something or not?” the edge in hyunjin’s voice stuns jisung momentarily. frustration is etched in hyunjin’s face. “i don’t have all day.”

“god. fine,” jisung sighs. “i wish for things to go well between felix and me.”

there’s a small hum, quiet, brooding, before gradually ebbing away. “the deed’s done,” hyunjin spits. anger boils in the genie’s tone. “enjoy your date.”

the sudden change of mood makes jisung wonder. hesitation is laced in his timid steps as he walks out the door, but not before casting one last look at the genie. he almost swears he sees tears at the corner of the other’s glittery eyes, but fate pulls him along and he shuts the bedroom door. when the click of the door is heard, the first tear falls.

followed by another.

and another.

_ stupid, stupid, genie. _

 

**_______________**

 

in retrospect, the date goes well. felix shows up in front of the seafood restaurant dressed in a white turtleneck and black pants, hair styled softly and parted to the side. jisung swoons a little, especially when the younger leans to press a chaste kiss against the other’s lips, followed by another, and another, before they finally peel themselves away from each other’s lips and stride into the diner.

it’s peaceful, ambient. in between bites of lobster and mussels, their conversation swings back and forth, from college to home to friends. yet, there’s not a single fibre in jisung’s body that feels any bit exhilarated. the adrenaline he felt, that kind he felt when he first laid eyes on the younger at the lift; that adrenaline has long gone, he realises.

felix is, on the other hand, bedazzled by jisung, complimenting him and even playing with their feet under the table. something fills jisung’s heart. affection, yes, and perhaps guilt.  _ guilt _ . why guilt? the feeling grows and grows and grows, the knot in his stomach tightening with every word felix says.

and when the bill is paid and the thank you’s are exchanged, felix sidles up jisung’s side. “your place, or mine?” the grin on his face widens - jisung feels sick of himself at the sight of it.

“l-look, felix,” jisung starts. he doesn’t know what’s going on. all he feels is the lump in his throat, his muscles aching to run away and never look back. he thinks back about what hyunjin said, how jisung talks about how pretty felix is, and that  _ only _ . 

when he clears his vision of the mist clouding over it, he realises, in fact, that nothing has ever been there. a spark that fizzled away in the dusk of the day. “felix, i don’t think… i don’t think this is it for me. for you.”

felix’s expression darkens. “what?”

“i don’t… i don’t think we should be, y’know.” he gestures at the both of them. “you’re really nice and everything in between, but i just don’t feel it.” he knows he’s being blunt about this, but what hyunjin said was true. whilst things went good between them during the date, jisung’s side of the fence was sinking down into the earth.  _ things going good never mean they last forever.  _ “the date and everything else is great.  _ you’re _ great. i feel you deserve someone greater, who actually returns your feelings.”

there’s a pause, the only sound filling the air being the honking of cars somewhere down the road, and the chatter of passers-by milling about all around the two. finally, felix lets out a sigh. 

“i… wasn’t expecting that-”

“-me neither, but after tonight, i realised that-”

“-let me finish,” felix cuts him off, turning jisung silent. despite the situation, felix manages a small smile. “you’re great, too, jisung. i guess we’re just not cut out for each other. i understand.” he chuckles a little. “a blowjob before a date? i should’ve thought it through better. your tongue is pretty good, though.” when he winks, jisung stammers over his words. 

“but don’t worry about it,” felix adds. “i’ll get over it someday. you have someone on your mind, haven’t you? i can sense it.”

perhaps there is.

when felix looks at jisung’s changed expression, he lets out a howl of laughter. “knew it. call me clairvoyant.” he slaps jisung’s back, as if they’re still good bros. “go get ‘im, dude.  _ you _ deserve it.”

 

**_______________**

 

jisung emerges in the bedroom to find hyunjin curled up on his mattress, dried tears on his cheeks as he sleeps, eyes shut. releasing a deep sigh, jisung pads over to the genie, before kneeling down on the floor, facing the other on the bed. 

“hey, hyunjinnie,” jisung murmurs. no response. he sighs again, his hand lifted to stroke the other’s soft, soft hair. 

how could he have been so blind? the ambiguity behind hyunjin’s sharp words and curt mannerisms should’ve been seen so openly, laid out like a full-course feast. jisung eyes the genie, so childlike and boyish, from the eyelashes framing his closed eyes, to the full, full lips. he resists the temptation to poke the other’s cheek awake.

“i wish…”

his words hang in the dry air. what does he wish for?

“i wish…”

outside, the chirping of crickets almost mock him.  _ what do you wish for, jisungie? _ the night sky is overcast with stars, but none of them shine as bright as hyunjin’s eyes. he thinks back about hyunjin, his kindness and generosity, his jokes and playful demeanour. a memory of tteokbokki and dressing up warms jisung’s heart. aches with longing in every fibre of his body.

“i wish for you to be human, too.”

it’s selfish - how can he ask of something from the genie? is that even permitted? but it’s the spur of the moment that counts, and for now, that’s all that jisung is holding onto.

the selfish words spill before he knows it. a sharp humming vibrates the floor, a rhythmic  _ tatumtatumtatum _ \- then stops. cuts off completely, entirely. nerves build up, layer upon layer in jisung’s gut as hyunjin’s eyes ever so slowly open, second by second. when his eyes are fully opened, hyunjin’s lips part. 

silence dominates every bit of the expanse of the bedroom, broken by hyunjin’s sharp breath. “jisungie.”

“hyunjin.”

before either of them realise it, hyunjin leans forward, pressing a kiss against jisung’s lips. the angle is awkward, given jisung’s knees are screaming in pain against the hard floor and hyunjin’s sleeping position on the mattress, but jisung struggles to his feet, before rolling onto the bed. they roll over, hyunjin above jisung, a small smile on his lips.

“is it bad that i wished for that?” jisung breathes heavily.

hyunjin grins. “is it bad that  _ i _ secretly wished you’d wish that?” and then he kisses jisung again.

kissing hyunjin is different, a good different. whereupon making out with felix was rushed, hot, insistent, hyunjin and jisung take their time, hands slowly roaming past each other. soft are their movements as hyunjin gently takes ahold jisung’s hips; jisung plays with the lamp earrings adorned on the ex-genie’s ears. tongues entangle and intertwine, and jisung thinks the other tastes sweet like honey and cinnamon.

when they open their eyes, the glimmer in hyunjin’s eyes is gone, replaced by bright dark brown eyes. “who are you and where the hell did you come from?” hyunjin teasingly quotes jisung from two weeks ago - feels like forever ago, when jisung dropped the vase and released the genie from its trap.

“stupid genie,” jisung murmurs, before enclosing the space between them. 

hyunjin laughs against their lips. “stupid lover boy.”

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](https://twitter.com/softtofustew_) // [curious cat](https://curiouscat.me/softtofustew_) // [tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/softtofustew)


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